


Picture me There

by Lidsworth



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Love Letters, M/M, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Takaba stepped out of Asami’s life six months ago, he’d learn to loathe the photographer more than anything else. He’d moved on, and was planning to propose to a woman in the near future. However, a shoebox full of pictures and a letter threatens to change all of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

AN: I wanted to write this before I forgot about it. Oh, and on a side note: THIS IS FOR YOU KNOX, HATE AWAY!  
Warnings: Major Character death. Possible Oc’ness?  
Summary: “Since i’m no longer able to be here by your side, I’ve taken enough pictures of myself to last you a while.” Six months ago, Takaba mysteriously walked out of Asami’s life. Now six months later, a shoe box addressed to Asami from Takaba has made it’s way into the Penthouse. 

He eyed the peculiar and eerily plain shoe box laid neatly across the pillow of his large bed. Brown and old, adorned only with the faded words “To Asami, From Akihito,” the odd box aroused his curiosity more than anything had before. He attempted ignored the slight tinge of pain that pinched his heart upon reading the familiar name, but did so to no avail.  
Betrayal and anger ignited in the pit of Asami’s stomach, and he fought the urge to viciously swipe the repulsive object from his presence, followed by dropping a lit cigarette in order to set the contents ablaze.   
So simple, so plain_this box reeked of Takaba Akihito, and had the sender’s name not been plastered in the same ugly color as Asami’s own name, than by pure observation, he would have been able to tell that the photographer had sent him the unattractive object.   
Six months away from the the younger man had given him time to densenselize himself to Akihito's enticing pull. Without a trace, the photographer had disappeared from Tokyo. And as far as Asami knew, he'd disappeared completely from his life. The amount of pain Asami felt after Takaba had left him was comparable to nothing he'd ever felt before. No physical scars or mental scars could relate to the excruciating pain that the younger man's sudden absence had ignited in Asami's being.   
Therefore, when love had failed him, he turned to hate. Hate made him angry and wrathful, made him loathe the very thought of the photographer. Though it took time, he learned to reverse his pain and use it to his advantage. The more he hated Takaba, the more he forgot about him.   
He’d tried to moved on.   
For the sake of his company, he even considered marrying to strengthen ties. His partners had daughters, daughters whom fawned over Asami for his god-like appearance and enormous accumulation of wealth. Capturing the heart of a woman was child’s play to him. Having sex with her was a walk in the park.  
But he remained completely abstinent. HIs brain kept tricking him, telling him that Takaba would come back_Thus he refrained from being overly intimate with any of the women he’d been involved with.   
It helped him forget_their fruity scents, their slim bodies, their delicate lips...their materialism had nearly succeeded in obscuring his past obsession with Takaba...and an engagement was in the near future.   
But this box….this repulsive object threatened to ruin everything he’d built, it threatened to tear the facade of a mask off of his face and pave way for unchecked emotions.   
Through his thoughts, his hands shook with fear and fury.   
Part of very thing he hated most in the world was sitting on his bed before him. He wanted it gone, yet his hands edged towards the rim of the raggedy box.   
He did not want to fall into Takaba’s enticing pull again, he did not want to be a slave to his own emotions. He’d fought to repress the memory of the photographer, fought to erase the younger man’s presence within his life.   
He didn’t want to know why he left, he didn’t want to know why he wasn’t good enough for the photographer.   
And yet, he pulled the lid off of the box.   
Like Takaba would have prefered it, the box was nothing special.  
Lifted slightly, due to the stack of paper placed neatly below it, a raggedy letter, written in pen, greeted Asami as he opened the box.   
On lined paper, in the large space above, the words “My Explanation/Apology” were written large enough that even pilot, 100,000 feet in the air, could clearly see. 

Asami took the note in a trembling grip, gasping when he fully caught view of the papers below him. Unorganized and tousled, with the letter no longer covering the parchment, he realized that this box was home to an array of pictures most likely taken by Takaba himself.   
Placing the note beside him and taking a seat on the bed, he grabbed a handful and began to go through them.   
Takaba was either the centerpiece of each picture, or somehow, edged his way into the scenery. They were all taken in different places, different countries, different backgrounds and communities.   
One was of Takaba on a bridge, behind him, the sun set upon the sea. The orange of the setting sun illuminated his figure, crowning it as if it were a halo of light. He was in casual clothes, waving, his bright as staring intently in the camera.   
The gaze was piercing, and even eerie. It felt as if Takaba was in the room with Asami.   
Upon further inspection, each photo Asami flipped through bore the same gaze and the same smile. Almost as if Takaba’s intentions were to actually be there with Asami.   
He flipped through more pictures, letting the one’s he’d finished with fall either on the floor or on the bed.   
Another picture caught his eye. Like in the previous photos, Takaba wore casual clothing and presented himself before foreign scenery.   
In this particular photo, he sat in a wired iron chair outside of a diner. He looked at the camera, through his eyes carried a certain weariness about them. His smile was half hearted, almost forced. In his hand was a glass of iced water, and snugly around his wrist was a hospital ban.   
Asami’s blood ran cold, and quickly, he removed the foreboding image from his presence and delve further into the stack.   
Out of the many he’d grabbed, the further he dug into the photos, the more he saw that wretched bracelet. Not to mention, Takaba grew thinner, he grew paler, his hair grew duller_yet he posed as he did previously, happy and attempting to smile.   
But he looked in pain.   
Gulping, Asami went into the box and grabbed more. These images were happier, though the bracelet still accompanied Takaba through his photo-journey.   
Rice fields, cities, deserts, corn field….Takaba posed before them all, the sun captured his angelic beauty and presented him in the most beautiful of ways. No amount of hate could prevent the smile the crept onto Asami’s face at the sight of his smiling Takaba. His happiness was contagious, and even through photos, it infected Asami so.   
He stood in a large oak tree in this photo. He grabbed on to a branch for support as he smiled towards the lens, though given his pose, it looked like he was about to fall...as if his happiness was short lived. The branches obscured the sun in this photo, and the leaves shadowed it’s warming gaze.   
Yet Takaba smiled on. But the sun refused to touch him.   
With a dry throat, Asami let the photo fall to the ground and resumed his adventure through Takaba’s secret life.   
The next bunch were chilling. White walls, heavy machines and IV’s, Takaba sat up straight in a hospital bed, making a half hearted attempt to look happy. But his body was failing him, and despite Asami’s lack of presence at the scene, every part of him agreed that after this photo was taken, Takaba collapsed of exhaustion.   
Hurriedly, he threw the picture to the side, and the many more that continued to replicate the first one. The sun was gone, no longer warming Takaba’s face, and instead, bright lights assaulted his body as he struggled to stay awake for the camera.   
The next were horrifying.   
Eyes closed and body relaxed, Takaba rested on the hospital bed, as pale as a ghost and still as nail. Had there not been an array of pictures such as this one, Asami would have believed Takaba to be dead.   
He grabbed the last from the box. And to his surprise, there weren’t many. Below and beside him lay a sea of photos, and now, he was to the last few.   
Frail and thin, Takaba was no longer confined to his white prison in the last sequence of the photos, now with what little strength he had left, he spend it outside, letting the sun and the wind comfort him.   
These were different, they captured Takaba in motion. Laying in a field with his eyes closed, sitting at the sandy beach, basking in the sun, chasing fireflies in a field, taking a picture of an insect...these last few upset Asami. It was like Takaba was leaving, like he was going away for good, and had no intention of coming back.   
And he came to the last one, the saddest of them all.  
He stood on a grassy cliff with his back towards the camera, looking out into a lake before him. The sun, like the first picture, was setting. It’s orange glory blanked Takaba, nearly obscuring the boy’s figure completely.   
The light...it took him, it consumed him, beckoning him to follow it.   
And that was it.   
Flipping it on its back, he began scanning the image for a secrets message or anything that would explain it’s presence at his penthouse. Suddenly, he remembered the letter that had lost his curiosity at the sight of the pictures, and made to retrieve it from the frenzy of photos.   
After a good while, he pulled the crumpled piece of paper from the mess, and began to read it to himself. 

My Explanation/Apology

Dear Asami, 

If you crumble this up...then screw you, because it took a lot to write this. You’re probably wondering why I left so suddenly, without a trace or anything like that. To put things in simple terms, I was diagnosed with an illness (which you don’t need to know the name of, just know it’s not contagious), a terminal illness, and given a set time to live.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You’re probably thinking, don’t worry, i’ve got a good explanation for that.   
Like I said before, there is no cure, it’s terminal. No amount of medicine can save me (it’s makes it so much harder to write this when I think of that), i’m a lost cause...but, i’d rather you be angry with me then feel bad for me. I couldn’t bare the pitiful look you’d give me if you found out I was ill, nor the complete 180 you’d have to do to care for me. I would’ve caused too much money for you (because admit it, you would’ve bought the most expensive medication you could think of, even if it only promised 1% of survival), I would've been a burden, and you would’ve had to be by my side 24/7.   
You come home at three in the morning, there’s no way you’d be by my bedside that long, and by no fault of yours either. You’re a businessman, work is hectic, I understand. I don’t expect you to drop everything for me.   
Now back to the purpose, I wanted this to get to you somehow, but I’m not sure how. Hopefully it does get sent to you, but if not, maybe it’s for the best. Sadly, by the time you receive this gift, I will be dead_six feet under, gone_whatever you want to call it. Just don’t think I ran off with an enemy or something, I never considered that at all.  
Now as for the pictures. There’s over a thousand of them.   
Since i’m no longer able to be here by your side, I’ve taken enough pictures of myself to last you a while. You always did like looking at me, so I decided to dedicate this last project to you. You liked me in my simplest forms, doing normal day things_You liked me being me, so with what little time I had left, I went around the world….just being myself.   
I missed you every step of the way though, sometimes it was so hard to continue without you. I sometimes wondered how you felt without me, or if you could even function without me. But I turned on the television one day, and saw you on the news at some rich person’s party, you were sitting with a lady, you guys looked really good together.   
I hope she’s nice to you, I hope she’s really good at cooking...and if not, you’ve got Kirishima. How’s he by the way, he and Suoh? Why am I even asking that though, not like i’ll be able ot get the answer...but I guess I just wanted to make some things clear.   
1\. I love you, I always have and always will.   
2\. Move on please, but be wise about it.   
3\. Whenever you feel sad or lonely, take a look at my pictures, know i’m with you always. That’s why i’m smiling, I know it makes you happy...so just take a quick glance at them.   
4\. I’m so sorry for doing this to you, I just had to Asami, and I hope you understand. It’s not because I hate you or anything, it’s because it has to be done. But I want you to know why I left. 

And it looks like that’s all I have to say, at least all I can put on paper. They say pictures speak louder than words, so I hope you can get my message. And just incase you can’t, then i’ll just tell you now, because as intelligent as you are , Mr. Asami, you seem to overlook the most obvious of things.   
I love you, and never forget it.  
Love,   
Takaba Akihito 

P.S: You’re still an asshole, but you’re my asshole. But seriously, if you wanna get the girls, then tone down a bit. :P Love you Asami! 

Takaba’s attempted humor had done nothing to ease Asami’s tingling nerves...in fact, it made him sick to his stomach. Things he didn’t say and things he couldn’t say swarmed in his head like bees in an angry bee hive. He stood, or at least tried to, and collapsed on his bed, hardly able to sit up.   
His mask was fading, his emotions were beginning to pour out.   
Grief hit him like a car to a brick wall, and all at once, he’d felt the pain associated with the gloomy emotion.   
He hadn’t even heard the creak of the door, symbolizing someone had entered. It wasn’t until his intruder cleared his throat, did Asami turn to notice him.   
“Kirishima…” Asami acknowledged the man with a soft and distant voice, almost as if he wasn’t there, “Who sent this.”   
Only when Takaba had initially left, did Kirishima see his boss so absorbed in grief and confusion, however, this was different. He was falling too fast.   
Kirishima had known Asami for ages, thus he knew they type of person his boss was. So why not jump to conclusions, why not send his men out at the mere evidence of Takaba Akihito?  
“A small group people,Takaba’s friends I believe. They were young,” he silenced his thoughts and remained calm, providing Asami with the information he needed.   
“Find them, and bring them to me,” despite his defeated posture, his voice was stern and serious, leaving room for any kind of failure.   
Obedient as always, Kirishima inclined his head and left. 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
I hope you liked this! Please review, it’ll make me happy! This is it, just a one-shot. The ending is up to you guys. I initially wanted to post this earlier in the week, but I got too caught up in school work. Oh, I did Mock Trial this year, it was my first time, though we didn’t advance, I thought we did well. I needed to post something like this to get my mind off of life and stuff, so tell me what you think. The summary for this was hard to come up with, so I fear it will not get the attention that I hope it would get. But anyway, hope you enjoyed it, have a nice weekend, and God bless!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami deals with unfinished business.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

If those snivelling brats had supplied Asami with any good information, it was the location of Akihito's grave.

Upon Asami's arrival at the secluded space, he believed himself to be tricked, as there was no graveyard, markers or anything of the sort. The place was barren of any human life, and it had taken Asami hours to find it's exact location.

To say he was in the country was slightly far fetched, no, these young adults had given him directions to God knows where in the middle of no where.

He'd passed so many trees, so many fields to the point of mental intoxication. How long had it been since he'd stepped outside_outside outside?

Aside from Takaba's death, perhaps this was why the situation was so sickening, he hadn't left Japan's urban area in years.

Was Takaba pulling him outside? Even after death, was his photographer still being this considerate?

He smiled despite the occasion, for he could "feel" Takaba around him, somehow, he could feel him.

Asami drove over a rough spot on the old road, and the package on the passenger seat shook at the impact.

Takaba had left Asami with a gift, thus he was planning to return the favor.

Any street signs he'd passed has been rusted or covered by leafy vines that had grown over them, and about an hour ago, Asami had found himself completely isolated from civilization. That's what Takaba's friends had said, that Takaba's grave was practically in the middle of nowhere.

And so it was.

The only reason he knew where to stop is because the scene, as similar to it's surroundings as it looked, was the same scene from the picture. The tree that Takaba climbed, the tree that set such a negative tone for the photos that preceded it.

The sun was up, though the sky glowed a dull orange as the eve of the day neared. Asami would need to hurry if he wanted to get back to Tokyo before nightfall, already his sudden urge to venture off into the country had startled his co-workers. He didn't need anyone's suspicion aroused.

He needed to see the grave and leave, he needed to see if this were all real. And ironically, he was sent to the most unbelievable of places to check Takaba's credibility.

But there was the old oak, standing high and tall, the sun dimly shining through the entangled branches.

Asami stepped out of his car, and grabbed the package as he did so. The feelings associated with the area boiled his blood as he experienced the scene personally for the first time. He could almost see Takaba climbing the tree,could almost see him losing his grip and crashing to the ground.

Knowing Takaba, however, the younger man most likely laughed it off.

A thick weight hung over the scene, and as Asami walked closer and closer to the tree, he felt the weight dragging his heart down to the pit of his stomach. His hands were sweating due to the amount of force he used to hold the package.

His nervousness was apparent, because Takaba being dead meant nothing to Asami. He'd tricked himself so many times, tricked himself that the photographer was alive_he'd even sent men out to find him.

He'd lied to himself over and over again_for the sake of his sanity_he'd lied to himself.

But this was it.

Seeing Takaba's gravestone would put an end to his fantasies, it would set him straight. And as much as he hated it, his dreams would finally come to an end.

His throat felt dry, his eyes slightly watery_He sighed and bit back tears. Crying was not whom he was, no matter what the circumstances were.

He now stood before the tree, taking in the twisted bark, and the roots that seemed dive deeper and deeper into the earth itself. Except, they supposedly stopped over an alleged coffin. Upon closer inspection, however, Asami clearly saw the tree was just a tree. There was no marker of any sort, no words, not even a scratch on the bark.

Asami was looking at an ordinary tree.

By now, he was seething. As if Akihito's supposed death hadn't unsettled him enough.

He'd been given false information by a group of terrified young adults, and against his better judgment, he'd driven out into the middle of nowhere_and now, he was here, standing before a random tree with the sun setting in the background.

"There'll be flowers there!" the young man, Kou had told him, "We went and put a ton of flowers there!"

But, where were the flowers? All Asmi could see was dirt which the routs clawed into.

He was in complete disbelief due to his blind trust. These strain of events had been causing him to act very uncharacteristically of himself, and now he was suffering for it.

He hated being made a fool of, and now he was going over very detailed ways to torture those brats that had done this to him.

"Are you lost sir?"

With his gun gripped tightly in his hand, Asami spun around as quick as a chetta, his aim pointed directly at his target.

The basket of flowers which the young women held had fallen to her feet as she stood there, hands up in a surrendering manor, though her eyes narrowed dangerously at Asami, "I'm not here to harm you, sir," her voice was strained and skilled, as if she was used to situations like this, "you just looked confused."

Asami let out a frustrated sigh, and placed his gun back in it's holster.

He never left anywhere without it.

"I'm sorry," he forced through clenched teeth, "you startled me, that's all."

The woman shrugged, bent down and began to pick up the flowers that had fallen. Asami, realizing that this was his fault, began to help her.

"Thank you," she smiled brightly him, her brown eyes big and bright.

He wondered whom she was? A relative of Takaba perhaps, however, she looked nothing like him. Whereas his skin was pale and milky, her skin was dark, like coffee, her hair was curly and black and her eyes were brown, dark brown.

Nothing about this woman reminded him of Takaba, save for her smile.

Something about it was warming and inviting, just like Takaba's smile.

He studied her as she began to place the plants into the basket, yearning to learn more about her and exactly whom she was.

"These were his favorites," her voice lessened a little at that, and her demeanor grew a little darker, "I remember when he_You're here for Akihito, right?"

He paled...so this really was it, Takaba really was dead, huh?

Swallowing roughly, Asami forced himself to nod as he fingered the delicate petals on the foreign flowers, "Yes...I'm here for...for."  
Asami caught himself, as it became harder and harder for him to speak. Not to mention, his eyes grew clouded with tears.

He didn't speak, as the woman clearly knew why he was here. And if he spoked, he feared he'd do something he hadn't done in ages.

Cry.

The woman watched him struggle as he helped her scoop up the assortment of flowers, she could tell he was fighting himself, fighting the urge to cry.

"I'm Akihito's mom," she stated bluntly, dusting her sun-dress off as she stood up and grabbed the basket. She didn't miss the quizzical look Asami cast her, because obviously, she and Akihito looked nothing alike.

"Not biological, honey," she offered as she began her stride towards the tree, beckoning a rather confused Asami to follow, "we adopted him at three years old. He didn't have the best health, and he wasn't expected to live that long, it was a bad sickness too. I think I picked up a different strand of it, a worse strand when we went to get him...it was pretty bad. Anyway, Takaba pulled through, as sick as he was, he pulled through. _Those are the kids that should be aborted, huh? The "sick" ones that don't have a change of living, right. At least that's what they say."

Asami kept silent as she walked the short distance to the dirt under the roots, and began dusting some of it away.

"Proved them wrong, huh? Nine kids," as she dusted off the dirt, Asami silently gasped as the rays of the setting sun shone atop of the corner of a marble plate, a square marble plate, "nine kids that didn't have a chance of living. Nine kids that should've been "aborted", you know it just upsets me_give 'em a chance, why don't you? Sure they don't live long, but it's memories we treasure_Hey, Asami? Do you have any memories with Takaba?"

He only nodded, he didn't feel like spilling his guts to her, besides, he was more interested in seeing the plaque that she had just uncovered.

Illuminated by the sun, he could see Takaba's name as clear as day on the marble, followed by smaller text, most likely a poem of some sort.

He inhaled sharply and looked away, that was enough for him_perhaps too much. Previously, in his rush to help Takaba's mother pick up her flowers, he'd left his gift near the grave, and now that he was back to where he started, he picked up the package.

"Here's a flower, Asami," she handed the younger man a stray plant that had been bruised due to the fall, and reluctantly, he took the feeble offering in his free hand. She held her basket and looked up towards the setting sun, "It'll be dark in a few minutes. The fireflies will come out, Asami. Let's put the flowers on the plaque at the count of three, because fireflies were always Takaba's favorite insects. When they all come out, we'll know he'll be happy."

As childish as it sounded, Asami obliged. He felt hollow inside anyway, and perhaps a shower of fireflies would excite him just slightly.

The sun was near gone, and would be down in seconds.

"Okay Asami...five_count with me," reluctantly, he silently began to follow, and together they counted.

"Five, four, three, two, one! Now let go!," for such an occasion, she was too happy, too happy that it was almost sickening. Asami wondered if she was lying to herself like he was, if this chance encounter was her opportunity to stop dreaming as well.

Nevertheless, at one, his flower fell to the soil followed by hers, and darkness overcame the land.

He stood there for a minute, looking around to see if any fireflies would come out and light up around them.

A minute turned to five, and five turned to ten, and ten turned to fifteen.

The wind blew through the trees, but that was about all.

"Maybe they're just sleeping," she suggested, "but that's not like Takaba, is it? To be sleeping all day?"

The wind howled slightly, and the trees began to whisper. "That's such a pretty sound, I remember when Takaba was little…"

Asami said nothing as he began to undo the package. After a second of struggling with the zipper, he pulled out a small camera, the one that Suoh had confiscated when Takaba snuck into club Sion.

Takaba wanted him to move on, so he would do just that. Even if that meant he had to let his photographer go, completely.

He dropped the camera to the ground, and watched as it fell upon the bed of flowers.

"Ahh...a camera, he always liked photography, I saw some of his pictures," she cooed, "he had such an awesome gift."

An awkward silence ensued, and the wind picked up.

She sighed, thus disturbing the peace, "Strong wind, huh? Suppose we should go, it's getting pretty late. And I don't know about you, but i've got a loooong way to go!"

He nodded and followed her as she began to leave, and she was right, it was getting late.

Asami needed to get back to Tokyo.

And then the wind picked up, the trees silent screams echoed through field, and Asami felt a tap on his shoulder.

He froze, because the tap was physical_he felt it, and though he turned around, no one was there.

The exhaustion was getting to him, at least, that was the most logical explanation for this occurrence he could supply. With a sigh, he turned back around and made to get into his car, however, he was tapped again_and this time, he felt eerie.

Slowly, he turned his head back, for his body felt icy cold, and the finger continued tapping on his shoulder.

And then his world froze, for standing behind him was Takaba Akihito. He wore the same casual clothes he'd worn every day, wore that same smirk, but now he was shinning. His skin was transparent, but he was shinning .

"Thanks," and when he spoke, his words didn't come from his mouth, but from all around him, echoing from every corner of the field, as if Takaba himself was the field, "I really do love you Asami! I really do, but I have to go, and you have to move on...goodbye, I'll see you again, but not for a long time!"

The wind ceased, Asami blinked, and as quickly as he'd seen Takaba, the photographer had disappeared.

"Asami! Look," and there was Takaba's mother, running to Asami's side and pointing to the distance, "fireflies! All around, I told you, didn't I! He loved them!"

Asami chuckled, still in complete disbelief due to the occurrence he'd just experienced.

He hadn't even realized that he was indeed tearing up, that his tears had fallen to the ground below him...absorbing into the ground.

He could feel many things now. Sadness, happiness, completion and Takaba, he could Takaba all around. He could feel him in the trees, and in the wind, the dirt and in these insects themselves, and these insects had taken quite a liking to Asami and Mrs. Takaba.

"Beautiful, huh?" she said once again, "Hope I get to see this place again, but you know, with work and all….I may not be able to. I don't even live in Asia, I live in Hawaii," and then she took his hand, and squeezed it hard, causing Asami to turn towards her.

She lowered her voice, and stared intently into those golden eyes, "Promise me Asami, that at least once a year you'll come and visit this place. Even if it's torn down completely, even if it's trashed or vandalized, promise me you'll visit. I don't know why he wanted to be burried in the middle of nowhere, but he did...and now someone has to protect it, we can't. None of us live in Japan, but you do...so please, can you promise me that you'll protect my son?"

With a heavy heart, Asami nodded, thus receiving a toothy grin from the woman.

"Well, that's that," she removed her hand from his and began her walk, "You can keep the basket if you'd like_My friend makes them, so I'll just get another one...anyway, bye Asami, hope to see you again soon!"

He took a breath, a shaky breath and looked at the stars. He could live here, it was such a beautiful place. Perhaps he'd buy it for Takaba's family, his mother seemed nice enough, she even said Asami's name with such happiness that...how did she even know his name.

He whipped his head around, looking for her and straining his eyes to find her in the darkness. There was no way she could have gone that far, his head had been turned for only ten seconds, where could she have gone?

He ran to his car and looked into the clearing, looking anyway he could to see if she was in the road, but she wasn't.

Had she disappeared?

Asami looked and looked, but this lady was nowhere to be found...was she...no, impossible. She was human and he could feel it, she just happened to be a strange lady.

He went around the the drivers seat in his car, and made to open the door. However, a photo on the window had stopped him.

He removed the paper and climbed into his seat, instantly paling when he saw it.

Obviously, he was sleeping, and next to him was the awkward strange stuffed suit that Takaba had proudly paraded himself around in during his stay at the beach.

He flipped the paper to its side, smiling at the note left by Mrs. Takaba.

He wanted you to have this, it just got lost in his package. He loved you a lot, he talked about you all the time, especially when he was in the hospital.

Love, Mrs. T.

That was that. It was over, all of it...Takaba was gone, and his mother disappeared into the darkness. The Takaba's were a mystery to him...but perhaps that wasn't as bad as he thought it was, perhaps this would give him time to move on.

And, if he ever felt…lost, he had the pictures to look at_Not to mention, this field, of course, he was going to buy it, and had to check up on it once a year anyway.

At the end of the day, he had lost Takaba, but somehow, the boy felt closer to Asami than he ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> El fin. The last picture is the picture he took of Asami sleeping next to that bear-alien thing in the 2nd chapter, when Takaba was at the beach. I had fun writing this, and i made it happier than the first chapter. I just wanted to end on a positive note. Asami lost some to gain some, but unfortunately, he had to lose a lot. And as for Mrs. T, I put Mr.T in one of my other stories, so I wanted to add her in this one with Asami. Please forgive me for any OCCness, and review to tell me what you think. The strand of Takaba's disease she got wasn't really the same, her's was contagious, Takaba's wasn't. I was debating on making her a ghost or not, but in the end, it's undecided. Speaking of ghostly or angelic or demonic or spiritual encounters, have any of you ever experienced one? They're interesting, are they not, or plain terrifying. Leave your answer (if you have any) in the reviews, I'd be interested to hear. Anyway, have a nice weekend and God bless!


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